The White Comanche
by Wooden Tulips
Summary: A girl is captured by Native Americans and adopted into their band.
1. Chapter 1: Exploring

The warm breeze ruffled the tall grasses, sending waves of motion across the vast expanse of golden brown. As far as the eye could see, there was a sea of golden brown waving gently. There was a small track worn into the grass from wagon trains, the dirt scarred along the way from fires and hastily erected and dismantled camps by the settlers on their way west.

This particular hill wasn't much different except for the small camp sitting at the bottom of it. It was early in the morning and the women were bustling around, rounding up their children and packing up the items they'd taken out the night before, ensuring everything was back in its proper place on the wagons before they set out. One little girl was headed in a decided path away from the curling smoke from the camp fires and loud boys, challenging each other to duels using long sticks they found. Her long brown hair was wet from a scrubbing, pulled into two tight plaits on either side of her head, her scalp shiny and pink in the part.

She was off in search of adventure, sure that it was just over the hill. Every day, Papa told her that adventure was just over the next hill and so far, there had been no adventure, just more grass. The ground was flattening out so even the excitement of a hill was waning. She was dreading the day when there was no hill in the distance. Then she'd have nothing to distract her from her sister's incessant prattling about boys or books or whatever it was that currently had her interest. She sincerely hoped she was not as boring when she was fourteen.

She dropped to the ground, crawling forward towards the apex of the hill on her hands and knees, her heart hammering in her chest in excitement. She could hear an odd sound just over the top and it intrigued her. She was fascinated by everything she didn't know, much to her mother's chagrin. It resulted in her getting into all sorts of things it would be best she didn't.

She rose up onto her knees so she could see over the tall grass and frowned with confusion.

Mike Newton, the teenage boy so recently the object of the girl's sister's attentions. He was sitting on the ground, his pants down around his ankles, rapidly pumping something between his legs the girl had never seen before. She frowned and crept closer as quietly as she could, craning her neck curiously.

"Bella!" a voice called from further down the hill. The girl whipped her head around in a panic before dropping to her hands and knees, disappearing in the grasses. "Bella, where are you?"

"Oh god," Mike groaned, apparently not having heard the shouting.

Bella crept forward again, getting close enough to see. She watched in fascination as his hand moved faster for a few moments before he cried out and slumped forward, a stream of pearly white liquid spurting from his…thing. Bella couldn't think of a word for it at the moment. She watched him for a moment and if his chest hadn't been heaving, she would have thought he was dead, he was so still.

"Bella, I know you're out here somewhere," the voice called again, louder and closer this time, a note of annoyance in it.

Mike heard this time and he sat up quickly, pulling his pants up and checking to make sure his clothes were clean before he stood up. In the meantime, Bella hastily crawled backwards, not caring if she moved the grasses. Surely Mike would only think it was the wind or some animal.

Once she decided she was at a safe enough distance, she stood up and started towards the voice. "Over here, Jessica," she called, waving towards her older sister who had caught sight of Mike. "I saw a rabbit and was chasing it, trying to find its burrow. It went that way," she lied easily, pointing in a direction completely different from where Mike had been.

Jessica wasn't listening to her sister, instead she was lifting her blond hair from her shoulders, piling it up on her head and fanning her neck as she'd seen some of the women do back home. Mike's eyes were immediately drawn to the pert breasts now thrust into the air. They weren't much, but there were very few girls his age on the wagon train, and some of them were his own sisters.

Bella watched the exchange with interest, idly twirling the end of one braid around and between her fingers. Older kids were so strange sometimes.

"Hello Jessica," Mike said awkwardly, rubbing his palms against his thighs nervously. "How did you sleep?"

"Oh, very well, thank you. And you? How did you sleep?"

"Fine. It was nice last night, not too cold. Perfect weather for sleeping outdoors."

Jessica nodded as though she were an expert on sleeping outdoors when she'd never done it before the wagon train. Bella rolled her eyes and started towards the top of the hill, eager to see where they were heading next, looking for adventure just beyond the horizon. The two teenagers continued their stilted awkward flirting behind her.

Bella imagined herself an Indian scout, looking for palefaces to rob or buffalo to hunt. She didn't know much more about what they might do other than scalping and hunting. That's all that had really reached her ears back home in Boston and that was only from hours spent eavesdropping. She hummed softly to herself, parting the grasses like she imagined an explorer might when searching the deepest wilds of Africa or the jungles of the Amazon. She imagined finding a tiger, like in India, or a lion like in Africa. She did not expect, however, to see the plain on the other side of the hill teeming with men on horses.

Their skin was bronzed and gleaming in the sun, what little was visible under the black paint. They were wearing their hair in two braids, like Bella's, but with bright colors painted down the parts, red and yellow and blue. Some of the men were wearing what looked like buffalo heads on their heads, making them look even more frightening.

"Jessica," Bella called anxiously. "Mike."

The teens came towards her, noting the tone of her voice. Jessica's hand flew up to her mouth when she saw the veritable army of Indians below. Mike's face drained as he surveyed them.

"We'll be massacred," he whispered hoarsely.

The three children stood frozen, the last minutes of their lives ticking away as they watched the army begin its trek up the hillside. The older two clasped hands subconsciously seeking comfort. Bella had a different idea.

She turned and started running down the hill towards the camp, screaming at the top of her lungs, hoping that if given even a little warning, maybe, just maybe, some of them could get out of this alive.

At first, the adults didn't understand her, then they didn't believe her. It was only when they saw the horde sweeping down on them from the top of the hill that they leapt into action, women and children hiding inside the wagons and men grabbing their guns. Bella's mother reached for her, shuffling her quickly into the wagon with her younger brother Tyler.

"Where's Jessica?" she asked panicked. "Where's your sister?"

Bella was panting from running down the hill. "She was on top of the hill."

Her mother turned immediately, scanning the mass of humanity swarming down on them in search of her older daughter.

"Renee, get in the wagon," her husband shouted, pushing her towards it as the first arrows started to fly. Renee hurried into the wagon, scooping Tyler in her arms and crushing him against her chest.

Secluded in the wagon, they could only hear the screams of the horses and the Indians as the battle raged on. There was an occasional scream from one of their fellow travelers and with each one, Renee hugged Tyler tighter to her. Bella crept forward carefully, peeking out through a hole in the canvas.

She watched wide-eyed as the men took down Indians who were simply replaced by ten more. The Indians were amazing, riding fast and shooting at the same time. A few would leap off their ponies, hitting the ground running as they whipped knives out and took the top of some of the fallen settler's heads off.

It was all over fairly quickly. Not a white man was left alive and more than a few of the women were killed. Every one that fought back at least. When the outspoken ones had been silenced, the Indians started pulling the remaining settlers out of their wagons, passing them around and essentially divvying them up. They had no interest in the goods in the wagons, other than taking a few blankets or cooking pots, grabbing the guns and ammunition off the dead bodies on the ground, but instead focused their interest on the human prizes.

Renee clutched Tyler to her, the little boy crying in terror, as she climbed down awkwardly. The Indians were shouting unintelligibly, scaring most of the survivors to tears. Bella stood beside her mother defiantly, looking around at the intimidating men surrounding her.

One man grabbed Tyler and thrust him towards another man while wrenching Renee's arm towards himself.

"No, not my son," she screamed, reaching for Tyler who was reaching for her, his face red and wet.

Bella darted forward, grabbing her brother from the man's arms and holding him protectively. Renee was still reaching for them when the man holding her hit her on the head hard. She blinked twice before slumping to the ground, unconscious. Now the full attention of several men was on Bella. She narrowed her eyes as she looked up at them.

"My brother," she said loudly, as though the louder she spoke, the more likely it was they would understand her. "He stays with me."

The men glanced at each other in confusion. One, the tallest in the group, stepped forward and reached for Tyler. Bella jerked back and shook her head, holding tightly to her brother who was now in a state of shock, his wet face pressed into her neck.

"No."

There was a low chuckle from the tall man and he nodded, understanding her finally. He motioned for her to follow him, pointing to his pony then off into the distance. Bella's heart pounded in her chest and she pointed at first her mother then at the man. He shook his head and pointed at her significantly. Only her and Tyler.

She fought back an urge to cry, knowing it would only set off Tyler again and took a tentative step forward. Whatever spell she'd cast was broken by that step and the silence that had fallen around them was shattered as the Indians continued to divvy up the others. The tall man swept Tyler and Bella up onto a pony, climbing on behind them and letting out a fierce cry before setting off.

Several of the others followed him, nearly a third of the group. They all had something with them, either a person or stolen items, as they rode off, shouting excitedly. There were even some who were leading the ponies of their fallen comrades, the dead tied awkwardly over the backs of the horses.

Bella scanned the scared faces of the other settler captives, looking anxiously for Jessica but she couldn't see her. They all looked alike at the moment, dusty and terrified, tears streaking down their faces.

They rode for hours before they could see the distant curling of smoke, pale grey against the piercing blue of the sky. Bella was sore from riding without a break, her stomach growling hungrily. They finally arrived at the camp, to the delight of several of those left behind. Some of the women untied the dead and carried them off somewhere to prepare them for burial while others gathered the blankets and pots and began to divide those among themselves. Then the human prizes were unloaded and shoved to the center of the camp, lined up as though on auction.

Bella had seen a slave auction once along the trip. She'd seen the dark men and women lined up, their skin gleaming in the hot sun. Her father had quickly covered her eyes and rushed her away, stating that it wasn't a thing for children or anyone to see. She'd looked back and had seen one man being led down the wooden steps, his back criss-crossed with lighter colored scars. Even once they were out of sight, she could hear the auctioneer's voice proclaiming the attributes of one slave and the answering bids from the crowd that had gathered.

This was somewhat like that. They were lined up and the Indian women went down the line of children first, checking their teeth and poking their ribs, treating them like animals. A woman with kind eyes stopped in front of Bella and Tyler and nodded, motioning for them to follow her. Bella looked towards the tall man with alarm and he nodded. She hesitantly followed the woman, pulling Tyler along behind her.

The women were divided up later, though Bella didn't know how or by whom. She simply followed the woman away from the center of camp towards a tall triangular shaped shelter. She looked at it curiously, noting the smoke curling out of a small hole near the top where the poles all gathered. It was about fifteen or sixteen feet tall and looked about twenty feet across when they entered. Bella stood for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the dimmer light inside the shelter.

There was some kind of lining hanging down from the top and tucked under the piles of blankets and furs on the ground, circling the entire interior. The ground underfoot was springy, making Bella wonder if there was moss or grasses or something under the blankets. There were bundles of belongings around the walls and now that her eyes were adjusted, Bella could make out that the furs and blankets weren't as haphazard as she'd originally thought. They seemed to delineate actual beds or at least separate areas for people.

The woman gestured for the two of them to come closer to her, squatting down and patting the pallet at the back of the tent. Bella moved forward slowly but surely, exhaustion outweighing her fear. If they were going to eat her like people said, maybe they'd at least let her sleep first.

The woman was talking quietly, words that meant nothing at all to the children but were soothing nonetheless. Bella stretched out on the soft furs and pulled Tyler against her. He went willingly though he never had before. The woman smiled and nodded, patting Tyler on the head.

"Ràmi," she said softly, then patted Bella's head. "Batzi." She tapped her chest. "Pia."

Bella nodded tiredly. "Pia," she mumbled before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Tali: So, I'm trying something new. I did some research for this but I know it's not completely right. Let me know if you want to see more!


	2. Chapter 2: Entering Adulthood

Bella, now called Batzi, was tired. Ever since Tyler/Ràmi had died, it seemed that Pia had more work for her to do. Batzi secretly thought it was probably because she was afraid the young woman would try to run away now that her brother was dead and there was nothing keeping her, but Batzi had no intentions of running. For one thing, there was nowhere _to_ run. She had no idea where they were geographically and it seemed stupid to just…run. Plus, after five years, this was her home.

She sat back on her heels and pushed some stray hair out of her face. Her hair was always falling out of the tight braids that Pia put it in, no matter what. That morning, Pia had grumbled to her husband, Ap, that it was about time for Batzi to be married and living in her own tipi, providing the band with more warriors. Ap had frowned, not quite ready for his daughter to leave his tipi but had nodded and agreed to let it be known that she was ready.

Batzi wasn't sure what she thought about that or how she should feel about it. For now, she worked, cleaning and scraping the hide Ap had brought back from the last hunt. It was back breaking nasty work, but she actually felt a sense of accomplishment when she finished, providing a warm hide to wrap around someone in the winter.

After only a little while, a tall shadow fell across her work space. She sat back and looked up curiously, blushing when she saw the son of the tall man who'd brought her here.

Piatseena was taller than his father though he had only recently been accepted as a warrior by the band. His long dark hair was braided and his part was painted red. His broad chest was bare in spite of the chill in the air and he wore a simple breechcloth with his leggings and moccasins. He looked nervous, shifting from side to side. Hunting the buffalo was easy compared to this. He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, staring down at the small woman in front of him.

She was so unlike the other women, not completely Comanche, but not completely pale. She was fierce and brave like the Comanche but still small and seemingly fragile, almost like a little bird. She confused him if he were to be honest, but he would never admit to being confused over a woman. Especially not one who was so recently declared a woman.

Piatseena had watched Batzi for years, impressed with the story his father told of her standing up to the warriors the day she was taken and by the way she continued to take care of her brother while quickly adapting to the Comanche way of life. He was fascinated by it, by her. And now, he was here to offer a gift to her father and he was quite frankly terrified.

The two had never spoken, but he'd seen her looking his way once in a while and he liked to think that she didn't look at the other young warriors that way. He certainly didn't look at the other young women that way. He'd seen other warriors looking at her and had heard the conversations. He knew he would not be the only one bringing gifts, he just hoped his was the one that was accepted.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?"

He stared at her, stunned at the soft alto of her voice. She'd asked him a question and it took a lot in him to remember that he was here on a mission.

"No." He practically barked it, making her flinch slightly. His face burned and he cleared his throat. "No," he repeated softer. "I am here to see your father."

She nodded and stood up, her small frame barely reaching halfway up his chest as she ducked into the tipi behind her.

While she was gone, he surveyed the work she'd been doing. It was good. Better than any of his sisters and they'd been taught how to cure hides for longer than Batzi had been in the band. He wondered what else she was good at. Probably everything, knowing her parents.

Ap stepped out of the tipi, Pia and Batzi coming out behind him. He surveyed the younger, taller man for a moment before straightening his spine. "You have something for me?"

Piatseena nodded, his face burning with embarrassment and nerves. He cleared his throat again, glancing quickly at Batzi before turning and leading the way towards the outer edges of camp where the horses were kept.

Ap followed at a slower pace than the young man walked, a hint of a grin on his face. He remembered the nerves of offering a dowry for Pia back years ago, how he'd thrown up a couple of times waiting for his older brother to come back with word. He knew that Piatseena was interested in Batzi for himself, he couldn't imagine the young man was here on someone else's behalf. That alone spoke well for the man.

Piatseena was waiting anxiously, holding the leads of three of the finest horses in his father's herd. He thrust his hand out, offering the leads to Ap.

Ap nodded, surveying the horses critically as he circled them. He checked their teeth and ran his hands over their legs, lifting them and checking their feet. They were all in excellent shape, better than some of the horses in Ap's own herd. He'd known as soon as Batzi came into the tipi and told him that Piatseena was outside wanting to talk to him that he would say yes, no matter what the offered gift was. These horses made it an easier exchange.

He nodded again and took the leads from Piatseena. Tradition required that he let the young man sweat it out for a day or so before receiving an answer. He gave the younger man an inscrutable look before turning and leading the horses over towards a small waiting area where a few other horses were being kept, waiting for a father's approval or disapproval of an intended spouse.

Piatseena watched, his heart in his throat. He knew that it would be some time before he heard a definitive answer, but the look in Ap's face gave him hope. He'd check back in the morning to see where the horses were.

Batzi shivered in the cold air. The snow had fallen fast and hard and blanketed everything in white. The day before, when Piatseena had made his offering, it had been cold but the hint of snow hadn't been there, certainly not enough for them to prepare.

Ap was walking along beside her, carrying the small bundle of her belongings as she carefully picked her way through the snow. There wasn't much in the bundle, a few tools and a couple of blankets and furs and two sets of clothes. She was wearing a new dress today, one that she'd made for Pia but was now hers. Her wedding dress.

Batzi still wasn't sure how she felt about this. Certainly Piatseena was the preferred husband over the other men who'd brought gifts, some much older than Ap even, but she'd always hoped that she would be in love with the man she married. She slipped slightly but quickly righted herself just as Ap reached for her. She smiled up at him tentatively. He smiled back down at her sadly.

They were silent as they continued across the camp. A few people were still outside, cooking over the outdoor fires while the rest of their families stayed inside out of the cold. They looked up as Ap and Batzi passed, nodding their heads in greeting and watching as the two continued on their path through the crisp clean snow.

They stopped outside a large tipi, larger than the one Ap and Pia had. The cooking fire outside was untended, the family inside eating or sleeping or simply spending time together. Ap turned to face Batzi and studied her for a moment. She had been his daughter for five years now, a replacement for the children who had died shortly before the raid. The other captured children hadn't been as accepted by the families who'd taken them in and many had died but Batzi and even Ràmi had flourished. He'd never once doubted that taking them into his home was a good idea. Now, though, he was going to have to give up Batzi only a few months after losing Ràmi.

She shivered again, looking up at the man she regarded as a father. She knew what was expected of her, what she would have to do as a daughter to the chief, but she was still nervous. What if they didn't like her? A mother-in-law could make things very difficult for a disliked daughter.

Ap nodded at her and pulled her into an uncustomary hug. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his chest and breathing in his scent. He released her, then nodded again before handing her the bundle and turned, walking back the way he'd come.

She watched him leave for a moment before squaring her shoulders and stepping forward. She grasped the flap covering the tipi opening and pulled it aside, ducking her head and stepping into the interior.

The chief and his family were sitting around the center fire and they all looked up when Batzi stepped in. This was the tipi of his first wife, Topsannah, but his other two wives and all the children were present. Piatseena stood, his eyes wide. Batzi's cheeks flushed and she clutched her bundle to her chest.

"I'm your new daughter," she said softly.

The chief nodded and motioned for her to take a seat next to Piatseena. She carefully picked her way across the space, marveling at how big it was.

Piatseena took her bundle and tucked it in a corner with a few other things and then helped her to settle on the pillows and furs he'd been sitting on when she came in. They sat awkwardly side by side while the rest of the family ate, chatting comfortably as they passed around the stew and mash, everyone helping themselves to as much as he or she wanted.

After a while, the fire was dying down and the younger wives gathered their children and left for their own tipis. Batzi glanced sideways at Piatseena to see if they were to leave but since the women were the owners of the tipis, not the men, they had nowhere to go. She had not yet made them a tipi.

The chief nodded at the two as the last wife left then stretched out on his pallet with Topsannah at his side. She smiled encouragingly at the young couple before banking the fire and crawling under the heavy pile of robes. Piatseena's face was red as he motioned for Batzi to lie down, indicating which was his pallet and which was one for guests but was now hers. She nodded her thanks and lay down, her hands clasped tightly over her stomach.

In the dim light from the fire, she could see Piatseena's shadow as he shifted beside her, pulling off his buckskin shirt and moccasins, stripping down to his breechcloth and leggings before he slipped under the heavy robes beside her. The two lay in silence beside each other, staring up at the small bit of sky visible through the hole twenty feet above them. In the silence the shifting and movements of the others in the tipi with them seemed louder, almost magnified. It seemed to take ages for everyone to finally quiet down and the slow deep breathing of sleep to fill the darkness.

After a few minutes of that, another sound broke the silence. A sound that was unmistakable to children who'd grown up in a single room with their families. Batzi rolled onto her side, embarrassment and a little shame coloring her face in the darkness. She should be the one making that noise with her husband but instead, it was his parents across the tent. One of them was making a faint soft mewling noise now and that caused Piatseena's face to warm. He looked over, almost shyly, at Batzi and saw she was curled on her side, trembling slightly.

A surge of protectiveness welled up inside him. This was his wife. This was his new family. She was scared and embarrassed and he wasn't helping anything by ignoring her, hoping to ease into their relationship, expecting things to get easier over time. She expected more from him. She expected to be made a wife tonight.

He swallowed hard and lifted the edge of his robes, motioning to her to come over to him. She studied him a moment, their eyes nothing more than glistening orbs in the dim light, before shyly crossing the distance and curling against his side. He awkwardly wrapped his top arm around her, pulling her closer still, before shifting over and gently pushing her onto her back.

Her hands were on his shoulders as he reached down between them, pushing her dress up around her waist and untucking the front of his breechcloth. His hand lightly caressed the inside of her legs, sending tremors up her spine and making her hands involuntarily grip his shoulders. He lightly gripped one knee and pushed it up and she quickly copied with her other knee, spreading herself open for him. She sucked in her breath as she felt him against her thighs, hard and hot and intimidating. His hand moved from her body to his own, carefully guiding them together.

Batzi closed her eyes as the pain took over, seemingly surrounding her and invading her. There was no escape from it as Piatseena made her his wife, each thrust a little deeper and more painful than the last. After a few movements, she took a breath, letting out a soft strangled sob as she did so. Her hands were gripping his shoulders tightly, her nails leaving little half moon cuts in his dusky skin. He could feel them but he didn't complain. For one, he could feel the tension in her body and hear the pained gasps. For another, it would be ridiculous to complain about a simple pain like that. He shifted one of his arms so that it could hold all of his weight and he smoothed the flat of his hand across her face, pressing it against her heart as he moved faster against her.

Batzi dropped one of her hands, gripping his fingers tightly and looking at his face. He was staring at her intensely, his black eyes seeming to bore holes into her. She slid her other hand down and pressed her palm against his heart. It was beating steadily and spreading warmth through his body. He closed his eyes and with one hard final thrust, emptied into her. He groaned softly before collapsing to the side of her.

Batzi stared up at the hole again, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as her body throbbed in rhythm with her heart. Piatseena pulled her to his chest after a moment, cradling her close and wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb.

"They say the first time is the worst," he said softly as she pressed her face against his chest. "I am sorry, though."

She nodded and hiccupped softly. "I'll be fine."

"I know. You're strong and courageous, which is why I chose you."

She looked up at him then and offered him a tentative smile. "I hope I don't disappoint you."

"You won't."

Tali: So, someone asked for some translations. I aim to please. ;-I Also, at the end, there will be a chapter with explanations and whatnot.

Batzi: older sister

Rami: younger brother

Pia: Mother

Ap: Father

Piatseena: basically, big wolf (I thought it was fitting)

Topsannah: prairie flower

I know, they're not terribly original, but I didn't want to try to invent a name that would be insulting to the Comanche people. Again, there will be a chapter with explanations.

Also....I'm pregnant! I'm so excited. Seriously. I gotta chill or I'll make myself sick...lol I'm telling everyone I've ever met (or in your cases, written to) about it.


	3. Chapter 3: Family

Piatseena scanned the horizon, looking for the smoke signifying the camp. He'd been out for two weeks hunting with some of the other warriors and he was eager to get home. Batzi was carrying their first child and it was likely to come any day. He'd been hesitant to leave her but she'd insisted he go and bring them back some hides so she could start working on their own tipi. It was awkward living with his mother after a year and they were close to having enough hides for their own home. Several had been donated from the others in the band, but the last few needed to be won by him. It had taken him the entire year but he was coming home with the last one.

Nocona let out a whoop when they spotted the grey smoke curling against the snowy hills across the valley in front of them. Piatseena simply smiled at the younger man, knowing it was unfitting for the chief's son to show such excitement, even if he felt it and more.

All the men seemed to spur their horses on faster, eager to get back to the warmth and comfort of their homes and wives, anxious to eat something other than pemmican and jerky. It didn't take long before they arrived in camp and the others greeted them with cheers and a feast that had been quickly pulled together when the lookouts had seen the men coming.

Piatseena scanned the crowd anxiously, looking for Batzi's distended frame. She was nowhere in sight. He slipped down off his horse and started towards the tipi, ignoring the congratulations on a successful hunt from those he passed. He froze when he saw the flap of the tipi. When he'd left, it was a faded red. Now, it was a bright blue. He stared at it, uncomprehending for a moment, before rushing forward and throwing the flap back.

He paused for a moment once inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. He scanned the room, his eyes immediately going to the small area that was theirs. She wasn't there. No one was in the tipi. He spun around and left.

It looked like everyone was in the center of camp, celebrating and feasting, some of the men triumphantly holding up the heads of the buffalo they had killed. Piatseena started that direction automatically. He got only a few steps from the tipi when he heard his name.

Batzi was returning from the river with water when she was Piatseena duck into the tipi only to reemerge a moment later. He'd looked upset and she was worried. He'd started towards the rest of the camp without even looking around so she'd picked up the pace a little, weighed down by the water she was carrying, and called his name.

He turned and his eyes scanned her form looking for something. They locked on her significantly flatter midsection then flicked back up to her face questioningly. She smiled and turned sideways so he could see the cradleboard strapped to her back.

"You have a close friend," she called and his face lit up. He ran towards her and carefully scooped her up, pressing his face to her neck, kissing her lightly before turning her and gently pulling the cradleboard off her back.

"When?"

"The day after you left," she laughed. "Did you bring me back the last skin?"

"I did. Your reward for a fine son." He studied the round sleeping face of the child in amazement. "A son."

She laughed softly and nodded. "A son. A warrior." She took the cradleboard back from him and pulled it on before grasping the water skins and making her way back towards the tipi. "I'm making stew for your dinner tonight. I would do more but I haven't completely regained my strength. Give me time, though."

Piatseena took her water skins from her and smiled down at her as they walked back to the tipi. He reached over and took her hand, not caring what the others thought. In that moment it was just them. Just him and his wife and their son.

Their son was named Muea by the medicine man in a ceremony a few days later and everyone agreed it was a good name. Batzi worked quickly, in spite of the cold weather, and soon had the outer cover for their own tipi made, leaving the gathering of poles to Piatseena. He took to his task with determination, eager to have the strongest and warmest tipi for his small family. By the time the snow was melting away and Muea was learning to sleep the whole night, the tipi was completed, set up in the position of honor beside the chief's tipi.

It was the first time they had ever been alone. There were no sisters or brothers or parents a few feet away. Their first night, Batzi sang a song to Muea to comfort him as he fussed while Piatseena banked the fire. He made sure there were enough glowing embers to keep them warm through the cold spring night but not so warm that it would cause them discomfort. He watched as Batzi hummed the song to Muea who was quickly quieting against her breast. His eyelids drooped and his pudgy fist rested gently against her skin.

"What's that song?" he asked as she settled Muea on his pallet.

She frowned, turning to join him. "I don't know. It seems like I heard it once a long time ago."

He smiled and pulled her close to him. "Like in a dream?"

She shook her head, frowning as she tried to remember. "No, not quite. More like…in a former life."

He nodded and smoothed her long hair away from her face. "Do you ever think about your life before?"

She was quiet, toying with the ends of his hair while she thought. "No. It wouldn't do me any good to think of the past. It's a life that I had once but is over now."

"But that was your childhood. Don't you remember your childhood?"

She sighed softly and traced the outline of his face with her fingertips. "I remember a woman wearing a strange dress and telling me she loved me and a man with a beard tossing me in the air and catching me. I had a sister but I can't remember any of their faces."

Piatseena was quiet. It hurt his heart a little that she didn't remember her family but he was her family now. He rolled onto his back and pulled her onto his chest, pulling her dress up around her hips and rubbing his hands over her skin. She smiled and reached below her body to untuck his breechcloth before sitting up astride him. She looked over anxiously at Muea before seating herself on him, her eyes closed for a moment at the feeling of his body inside hers.

"I should be on the bottom," she said after a moment as he grasped her hips and started to move her.

"No," he disagreed, awkwardly pushing himself up into a sitting position. "You are not beneath me. You are my equal. I don't need to dominate you."

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. She cupped his face in her hands and rested her forehead against his, moving awkwardly with him. "Give me another fine warrior so someday I can have a daughter to help me."

He laughed softly and pressed his face into her neck, his arms wrapping around her waist tightly and holding her against his chest. "I'll give you as many warriors and helpers as you want," he murmured. His voice was muffled by her skin but she heard him. It warmed her heart to know that someday, this tipi would be filled to the point that they would need a larger one.

Hours later, they both woke when Muea cried hungrily. Rather than continue to move back and forth from his area, Batzi settled him beside her to nurse while she lay down. Piatseena propped his head up on his hand and watched his son with pride. He would be tall like his father and brave like his mother.

Piatseena lowered his mouth and trailed soft kisses along her neck, pulling on the wide neck of her dress to expose one shoulder and kissing that. She looked over her shoulder at him curiously and he gave her an innocent grin. She laughed softly and shook her head.

"Not while your son is nursing. At least let him finish."

Piatseena nodded but was already pulling her skirt up, eager to return to his place. He may be married, but buy the pale men's standards he was a teenager still and as such his appetite for his wife was nearly insatiable.

She sat up and put Muea on a pallet nearby but within reach before turning to face Piatseena with raised eyebrows. "How many more times tonight, just so I know?"

He sat up with her and pulled the soft buckskin over her head. "As many times as you'll let me," he answered honestly. "Our families are nowhere close so there's no need for silence or discretion." He started to pull her forward but she shook her head and lay down with her back to him.

"This way is better. Your son makes my breasts sore."

Piatseena wrapped one arm around her chest just under her breasts and the other around her waist, carefully sliding into her from behind. In spite of the lack of family, they were both still quiet, aware of the sleeping child a few feet away. Batzi reached behind her and tangled her fingers in Piatseena's hair when he lowered his head to bury his face in her hair.

Their height difference forced them to be creative and was something the others in the band laughed about in the privacy of their own tipis. It would not do to laugh openly about the son of the chief and no one was brave enough to do so. In the years to come, the height difference would still be an amusing topic as Piatseena rose into his proper place, taking over as chief of the band when his father was killed in a raid. The custom might have been for the new chief to take on the old chief's wives, but as he viewed these women to all be his mothers, and indeed one was, he declined and allowed the three women to remarry if they chose or to simply remain under his protection as a mother. Only Topsannah refused to remarry, claiming she was too old.

Batzi made a strangled noise as Piatseena touched something deep inside her that hadn't been touched before. Piatseena froze and turned her slightly.

"Are you ok?" he asked anxiously.

She nodded vigorously and pulled on his hip. "Do that again."

He grinned and flexed his hips into her, brushing against that spot again. Her eyes fell shut and her skin bloomed with color as she pulled on his hip almost desperately. He tried to angle deeper and harder and to make sure he hit that spot, loving the color that stained her cheeks and upper chest as her breathing grew heavier. Her nails were digging into him again but he hardly noticed he was so entranced by her reactions when he hit that spot.

She stiffened in his arms and shuddered, her body tightening around him in waves. He lost his focus and only just managed to thrust one last time before he was done for.

They lay on the pallet panting for a moment, their bodies dewy in the faint glow from the embers. He rolled onto his back and sucked in a breath, wishing there were some way to get some cool air in the tipi without losing the warmth they'd want later. Batzi curled into his side, lazily tangling her leg with his and resting her head on his chest. Together they kicked off the heavy buffalo robes.

"Whatever that was, I want another," she finally whispered, kissing his chest up to his mouth, cupping his face in her hands and smiling down at him. "As many as you'll give me."

He grinned and nodded, pulling her down carefully so as not to hurt her. "I think that's a goal I'm willing to work towards."

Batzi grimaced as another wave of pain hit her and she managed to straighten up somewhat, motioning for Topsannah to come from her fire nearby. The older woman came over concerned.

"Are you alright, Daughter?"

Batzi shook her head. "My time is here. Can you send someone for Piatseena so he can tend to Muea while we're in the lodge?"

Topsannah nodded and called to one of her other sons who still lived with her, ordering him off to find his brother while she helped Batzi towards the small brush lodge that had been prepared for just this occasion. The other wives of the chief joined them, the older daughters left in control of their younger siblings.

Once inside the dark lodge, the older women set about their tasks. The younger wives brought water and hot rocks to fill one hole while Topsannah settled Batzi on the small pallet. Batzi groaned louder as another pain hit.

"This is worse than last time," she sobbed softly, gripping the poles on either side of her pallet. "It's coming faster."

Topsannah situated herself between her daughter-in-law's legs and surveyed the situation. "The head is already visible. You waited too long," she chided her gently. "By the time they find Piatseena he'll have another child."

Batzi rested her head back on the ground and closed her eyes. "He should be fine with that. He was so worried about Muea I can only imagine what he would have been like if he'd been here when he was born."

Topsannah laughed softly and nodded. "Are you ready?"

Batzi grunted and nodded, gripping the poles. "Yes."

She'd waited long enough that it was a quick delivery. It didn't take more than a few pushes before another squirming screaming child was in the world. Batzi rested back against the pillows behind her, exhausted even after such a short labor. Topsannah wrapped the child up and beamed at Batzi.

"It's another son. Piatseena will be proud."

"He'd be proud no matter what," Batzi chuckled, wiping the muck off her son's face.

After the afterbirth was buried and the two were cleaned up, Batzi and the baby were moved back to her tipi. She moved gingerly, cradling the child against her as she walked through the camp. It was dark and most of the band were in their tipis, eating and getting ready for bed, but several people came out of the tipis, smiling and nodding at her as she passed. Piatseena was waiting with a broad smile at their tipi, Muea in his arms watching solemnly. Piatseena held the flap for her and she ducked inside, carefully setting the new baby on the ground and lying down beside him.

Piatseena ducked in behind her. "Are you feeling ok?" he asked anxiously.

She nodded. "Just tired. Are you hungry?"

"The others brought food. Just sleep."

She closed her eyes and drifted off into the blissfulness of pain free sleep. Piatseena watched for a moment before leaning over and studying his newest son.

He wasn't much to look at yet, but he would be before too long. When he'd first met Muea, he'd looked like a normal enough baby and he'd been less than two weeks old. He was a little intimidated by the fragility of children at that age. Muea was just starting to be old enough that he wasn't afraid of hurting him when they played. Now he had to start over with a new son.

He'd do it as many times as he could, as many times as Batzi would let him. A son was a true blessing and to have such a wife that gave him two so quickly must mean that favor was on his side.

He pulled Muea over and settled him on the opposite side of the pallet as the new baby and stretched out behind Batzi. She shifted slightly and turned her head.

"Everything alright?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Perfect," he said softly, kissing her hair. "Sleep and get your strength back."

"No more children for a little while," she sighed softly. "This one wore me out faster than that one."

"We'll try," he promised, not sure how that would work other than simply staying away from her. He wasn't sure he could do that. That was probably why so many men had more than one wife: give each a break from her husband's attentions once in a while.

The next few weeks passed quickly for the camp. They had been waiting for a few of the women to give birth before moving camp and Batzi was the last. As soon as she was rested, they broke camp and started out, heading south for their winter camp. Muea rode on his father's horse while Piatseena led it and Batzi walked beside him, Mupitz strapped to her back in the cradleboard. It wasn't a long journey and before long, they were set up and thriving. The weeks turned to months and before long, Mupitz was crawling, grabbing at everything with pudgy fists and laughing at his father and brother. And still, Batzi turned Piatseena away at night. He was getting frustrated.

The winter wind was howling around the tipi one night, their sons fast asleep on the other side of the tent. It had been over a year now. They'd moved camp three times and were once again back at the winter camp. Batzi was asleep but Piatseena was in an almost painful state. The young warriors were well acquainted with tending to such problems themselves but Piatseena was a grown man with a family and it was unseemly.

He propped his head up on one elbow and studied her for a moment, wondering if he could get away with entering her while she was asleep. He started to inch her skirt up and her eyes fluttered open.

"Piatseena?" she mumbled.

"I need you," he groaned, pressing his body against hers. "It's been too long, Batzi."

She shifted back against him slightly, feeling her own need building up inside her and pooling between her thighs. He groaned softly, gripping her hips and pulling her body against his.

"Quickly before you lose control," she murmured, rolling onto her back and pulling him over her.

He smiled at her before burying himself in her and sighing with satisfaction. The young warriors didn't know what they were missing. It was probably better that way.

He shuddered into her and rolled onto his side, pulling her with him.

"Please don't make me wait so long."

She laughed softly and smoothed his loose hair. "I'm sorry. I want to give you more children but I need time between them. Too many too soon is bad. I think that's why some of the young wives die."

He was quiet for a moment then nodded. "I understand."

"But, since we've already tonight, we might as well until my next cycle."

He grinned and kissed her neck. "However you want it."

Buea: Moon

Mupitz: Owl

Thought they kinda worked with the New Moon kinda thing. ;-I


	4. Chapter 4: Separation

The camp was eerily quiet when the men came back from their latest hunt. Piatseena and his sons, Muea and Mupitz, were in the lead and saw the smoke curling from the fires but no one was there to tend them. No one ran out to greet them or congratulate them on a good hunt. The horses were all gone, too.

The fires looked as though they'd just simply been abandoned, their owners gone off to gather berries or to empty the traps of smaller animals. A few had gone cold but most were still smoldering as the men wound their way through the camp. Then, in the distance, Nocona shouted and they turned. He was holding up a hat like the pale men wore, shot through with an arrow.

Piatseena's chest constricted and he slipped off his horse and rushed towards his tipi, his sons close behind him. Their fire was empty too, as was the inside of the shelter. Batzi and their daughter, Tuaahtaki, were gone. The other men were finding their tipis similarly empty and an angry grumbling was beginning to sweep through the camp. There were no bodies and no signs of struggle, a fact that confused them all. Their women would not go easily.

"I'm going to check the river," Nocona shouted, jumping back on his horse and taking off for the camp's main source of water. Piatseena nodded his numb agreement, wishing he'd thought of it first.

No one judged the young chief. They all saw the way he still looked at his wife, as though he were a love sick young man trying to work up the courage to speak to her. This was a devastating blow to not know where she was.

Muea leapt onto his horse and followed Nocona, his eagerness for adventure parallel to that of his mother's. Mupitz stood for a moment in confusion. This had been his first hunt and he'd been successful. He was supposed to be celebrated, not come back and find his mother and sister gone. He quietly unloaded his horse and that of his father and placed their things in the entrance of their tipi, sure that soon enough, his mother and sister would be back to begin the curing and tanning process. They couldn't be gone forever.

Miles away, Batzi was clutching Tuaahtaki to her chest, hiding her under the buffalo robes she'd wrapped around herself to stave off the chill. She would have fought, should have, but she was sick and decided her energy was best used protecting her child.

The other women were probably safe at the river grove, hiding where the pale men couldn't find them. She'd heard them crying out the alarm, urging everyone to get away and to hide or to stand up and fight but hadn't had the strength to do either. Those who fought were captured. No one was killed to her annoyance. It would be better to die fighting than to be taken while sick and hiding.

A man rode towards her and she stiffened, tightening her grip on Tuaahtaki. "You and your daughter have blue eyes," he said conversationally, gesturing to the sleeping child.

Batzi nodded. "All my children do."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Do they? Why?"

Batzi clenched her jaw. "I was not always Comanche."

His jaw dropped. Most Comanche simply accepted this answer and moved on. It was not unusual for the men to father children among the captives taken from the settlers though most did not live as long as she had or as well.

"When did you become Comanche?" he asked eagerly. "I've been looking for a few people who were taken."

"In my heart, I was always Comanche," she retorted angrily. "I _will_ always be Comanche. The circumstances of my birth will not change that."

"You don't wonder about your family? They might be missing you."

"They are all dead," she said flatly. "My family is the Comanche now."

They finally arrived at a fort, the women and children who'd been captured settled together in a long bunkhouse with metal beds. Batzi recognized the shape of the item and so could tell the others what it was though they were all nervous about it. The man who spoke their language was dispatched with a white flag to negotiate a trade: the women and children for rights to the land the band was currently living on.

What the pale men didn't expect, however, was the sheer determination of will by the women to get back to their camp. No one much expected them to be as fierce and ruthless as their husbands and sons and slowly and in small groups, the women with older children made their escapes at night. After only a few weeks, only the oldest and youngest were left.

Batzi's illness subsided but now she knew what it was: she was carrying another child. The three before Tuaahtaki had been lost because they'd been moving while she was birthing them, dying on the side of the road in the blood stained dirt. All three had been sons which only added to Batzi's grief. This child she would not risk for anything. Piatseena would want them home, safe with him, but he would also want the child to be healthy.

A few days after she realized her condition, a small wagon with a group of pale men came into the camp. Batzi and Topsannah were sitting in the open yard by their barracks, enjoying the sun and watching Tuaahtaki running and laughing with a couple of the other children. They watched with stoicism as the wagon pulled up to the main house where the Chief lived. A woman climbed out and looked towards them, her face obscured by the long bill of her hat.

"Silly hat," Topsannah commented to the younger woman. "Though I suppose it does keep the sun out of her face."

Batzi nodded, an inkling of a memory in the back of her mind. It seemed that once she'd worn such a hat. "But can she see very well? Or feel the wind on her face? I'd rather have our ways."

"Of course," Topsannah agreed, shifting in her seat.

The woman and the men went inside and Batzi imagined she could see them looking out the window at her and for some reason, it scared her. She stood up then and called to Tuaahtaki. The little girl came over at once, holding her hands up to her mother and letting herself be carried inside out of the sun. Topsannah followed them and closed the door once they were all inside.

"They were watching you, Daughter," she said quietly.

Batzi nodded but didn't say anything more.

They'd only just gotten Tuaahtaki to sleep when there was a loud knock at the door. The remaining women cowered but Batzi squared her shoulders and answered it. She was the chief's wife and as such should set an example of courage even if she was terrified inside.

The man who spoke Comanche was standing there, rocking back and forth on his heels and smiling broadly. The pale woman and a man were standing beside him anxiously. The woman scanned Batzi's face then burst into tears and threw herself at her, wrapping her arms around Batzi in a tight embrace. She was talking quickly in a language Batzi felt she should understand but didn't. She carefully pried the woman off her ant looked to the man.

"Who are these people?" she demanded.

"They're your family," he beamed. "Your sister Jessica and her husband Mike. They were the only survivors of the raid where you were taken."

Batzi turned her eyes back to the woman. She had now pushed her funny hat back and her golden blonde hair was visible. She was tapping her chest.

"Jessica." It was just a sound to Batzi, but a repeated one from the man. The woman pointed at Batzi. "Bella."

She frowned. That name. it was the name the woman in her dreams called her. She studied the woman in front of her and saw a similarity to her own children: the nose and the color of their eyes were the same.

"Bella," she tried, her mouth wrapping around the awkward syllables. It didn't feel right so she shook her head and pointed to herself. "Batzi."

"Batzi," the woman tried, glancing anxiously at her husband. She said something else and clasped Batzi's hands in hers imploringly.

Batzi looked at the man.

"She wants you to come home with her to Texas, meet her children, let her take care of you. I'd say go. It's the best offer your likely to get."

Batzi shook her head. "My husband will come for me. He is a great warrior and my sons will not rest until we are all reunited."

The man seemingly repeated her statement to the woman who sucked in her breath. The man muttered in a low voice so she couldn't hear. "She's shocked you married a savage. Thinks you're crazy or something. Insists that they take you by force if they have to."

Batzi bristled at the description and pulled herself up to her full height. She was several inches shorter than Jessica but she made up for it in sheer intimidation.

"I will not be forced anywhere. I am the wife of a great chief and you are the savages who took me from my home. You are the savage trying to force me to return to a life I do not miss or want. Let me go back to my people and my husband. If you don't, he will find me and there's no guarantee that I can stop him before he kills you all to rescue me."

The couple's faces went incredibly paler as the man relayed the message, a hint of amusement in his voice evident even to Batzi. Jessica's eyes narrowed and she shook her head and pointed to the wagon.

The man sighed and looked at Batzi. "They'll kill him first. Someone's going to die no matter what happens here. They're insisting you go. Say they'll tie you up if they have to."

Batzi was furious now. She wanted to hit the woman but knew that that would be a foolish action. "Tuaahtaki will not go with me then. I'll only consent to go if the rest of the women are released and allowed to return to the band." She shot an angry look at the woman. "And my husband _will _find me, there is no doubt about that."

The man relayed the message and the pale man, Mike, looked slightly troubled but Jessica looked triumphant. Batzi turned on her heel and marched back into the barracks, calling the women over and explaining what she was doing as she gathered her few belongings together.

"Topsannah, take Tuaahtaki to her father. She's old enough to be weaned so now is a good time to go. Tell him they're taking me to Texas. He'll find me, I know he will."

Topsannah nodded, pride blooming in her chest at her daughter-in-law's actions. The sacrifice of one to save the many was worth celebrating. "And the child you're carrying?" she asked quietly when the other women had moved out of earshot. "Do I tell him?"

Batzi shook her head no. "He'll only worry and become reckless. I'll try to leave a trail for him as we camp but I don't know how far it is from here."

The two women hugged tightly and Batzi kissed her sleeping child, certain that she would see her again before too long. She straightened up and turned to leave. The other women were watching her expectantly, nodding their thanks as she passed them. She could only hope that this was a promise the pale men would keep.

It was much farther to Texas than Batzi thought, three days journey in the wagon. She was so sore and tired from riding in it after the first day, she refused the days after and instead walked along side it. Jessica at first seemed to be upset by this and her voice had a coaxing quality as she talked but Batzi ignored her, leaving a trail when she could whenever she could do so without arousing their suspicion. Finally, Jessica gave up her coaxing and walked alongside Batzi.

Her voice was, in a word, annoying. It did bring back memories, though, and Batzi sighed internally at that. It would be so much easier to hate these people if she didn't remember who they were and that they really were family.

They finally reached a small grouping of houses, low and small boxy buildings that had rock chimneys on one end. There were fenced in areas where some horses were grazing. As the wagon came to a halt, people started to come out of the buildings. There were a few children and a couple other adults, all looking curiously towards the wagon and the women walking beside it.

Batzi was introduced to everyone but their names were so strange and she had no intention of staying around long enough to need to know who these people were.

After a few days of getting used to them, sleeping on the floor beside the bed they provided for her, she was ushered into a room and Jessica and another woman pulled her clothes off and forced her into something restricting and uncomfortable, shoving her feet into tight hard leather shoes. First, though, she was forcibly bathed, her skin scrubbed almost raw until the shade of her skin was simply darker from the sun and not from the dirt. She endured it all in silence, letting the women pin her hair in the mornings and then sitting and facing back the way she'd come, waiting for Piatseena to come for her.

But he didn't come. The warm weather steadily cooled off and the grasses turned brown. Batzi's buffalo robe had been taken and burned when she arrived so she took the quilt off the bed that was hers and wrapped it around her shoulders, kicking off the shoes and sitting cross legged on the ground while she waited. She only moved her daily waiting inside when snow fell and it was too cold. The flimsy quilt was not as warm as her buffalo robe.

When the snows came she was far enough in her pregnancy that the family noticed. The knowledge of her children with the savage chief and the reality of it were two different things. A man who had frequently visited and checked Batzi confirmed the impending child to the rest of the family.

Batzi could tell that the family was hoping she would fall in love with the man and forget about Piatseena and in truth, he was nice enough to look at as pale men went. He knew a few words in her language and he tried to speak to her. He at least did her the courtesy of calling her by her Comanche name instead of insisting on calling her Bella like the others did. His name was Samuel and Batzi shortened it to Sam, her mouth having an easier time of wrapping around the short syllable.

Sam was quiet and gentle but there was sorrow in his eyes that spoke to Batzi's heart. It was the sorrow of a lost child and spouse.

Over the months, she learned through their pigeon language of English and Comanche that his wife had died the previous winter giving life to a son. The son had lived for a few hours before dying as well. He was now alone in the small town nearby, the area's medicine man. Batzi told him of her three dead children and about her two strong warrior sons. It had been Mupitz' first hunt and she was confident that he had done as well as his father and brother and regretted that she was not there to create his first buffalo robe for him.

With the first snow, Batzi also lost some of her hope of rescue. One morning while the others weren't paying as close attention to her as they usually did, she carefully took a pair of scissors and made her way to the small building where everyone tended to their necessary needs. She closed and locked the door and pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it tumble down her shoulders.

Typically, women of the tribe cut their hair when they married but Piatseena had asked her not to. He loved her hair so she left it long and by now, it was well past her waist. She gathered it in her hand and closed her eyes, carefully working the scissors through it. It was slow going, the scissors having some trouble with the thickness and weight of it but eventually, her feet were covered with the dark locks.

Next, she opened the top of the restrictive dress and carefully dragged the blades across her breasts, slicing open the skin. She closed her eyes against the sting but didn't cry out. If it weren't for the child in her belly, she'd continue, but for now, X's across the tops of her breasts was all she was willing to do. Once the child was born, she would continue in her grief.

She carefully buttoned up the dress and gathered up the hair, dropping it down the hole into the cistern. She wiped the blood on the blades onto her skirt and stepped out, making her way back to the house. The others would be eating soon and while the food was not for her taste, she needed the nourishment.

She heard a shout from afar and she turned her head, looking anxiously for the source. It had sounded like Piatseena.

This land was very flat but there was a slight raised area a little ways away. On the top of that raised area was a lone man on a horse. From this distance it was hard to tell who it was, white or Comanche…or someone else. Batzi watched as the man paced his horse back and forth for a moment before turning and spurring it down the hill. As he neared, Batzi's heart leapt into her throat. She recognized that horse.

"Piatseena!" she screamed, lifting her skirts high above her knees and running towards him as best she could. The snow was cold and numbing to her feet and the icy air burned her lungs but she didn't care. He'd come for her at last.

When he was close enough, he jumped off the horse, landing gracefully on the ground at a run. He caught Batzi up in his arms and spun her around, hugging her tightly to him. For a moment he didn't seem to realize the condition of her body but when he did, he set her down carefully and dropped to his knees, hugging her hips and resting his cheek against the swell of her body. She smoothed his hair and lifted his face to look at her.

"You cut your hair," he said softly, standing and fingering the jagged ends.

She nodded. "Just now. I thought…" she stopped and swallowed hard. "I thought you wouldn't be able to find me in the snow. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"You can grow it out. Did you cut yourself?"

She nodded and pressed the palm of his hand to the top of her breasts. "Only a little."

He gathered her against him and kissed her deeply. "Your sons have made you proud. They both killed buffalo on the last hunt and have been with me in the search."

"Where are they?" she asked eagerly, looking back where he'd come.

"I went ahead to check here. We've looked at every settlement we've passed on the way. That's why its taken so long."

"You didn't find my trail?"

He smiled and tucked her shorn hair behind her ear. "I did but the weather destroyed it after a while."

There were people streaming out of the house now, the men armed with rifles and the women cowering in the doorways. Piatseena pushed Batzi behind him automatically.

"No," she said softly, stepping around him. "You're the one they'd shoot, not me."

His jaw tightened. It was unmanly to be protected by a woman but in this situation, maybe that was for the best.

Batzi stepped forward and raised her hands to show there was no harm. She'd dropped the scissors somewhere between the privy and Piatseena so she was truly unarmed.

"Bella, get away from him. He's evil and only wants to hurt you," Jessica called. Batzi understood more of their language now than they thought and was angered by nearly everything they said to her about her husband and people.

"No. My husband. I go." She may understand, but she had trouble speaking their language.

"No," Jessica said firmly. "You're staying here with us. The abuse ends now."

"Yes. I go." Batzi looked up at Piatseena. "I have nothing else to wear. Do you have something we can trade for these clothes?"

He nodded. "We have some robes and blankets at the camp."

"They won't accept that." She sighed and looked between the two. The pale people were arguing with each other, talking so fast she couldn't keep up. "Do we have any rifles?"

He nodded. "I'd trade all the rifles and all the horses to get you back."

She smiled and cupped his face. "Not all the horses. I need a way to get back home."

"I'll carry you."

She laughed softly and shook her head. "It's too far."

"Nothing is too far if you're with me."

She turned back to the people who were finally quiet, watching them nervously. They had no idea of there was an army of Comanche warriors just over the hill or if Piatseena was alone and they weren't terribly anxious to find out.

"He give guns for me."

Jessica shook her head, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. "No. I won't let you leave."

Mike touched her arm. "You don't have a choice here."

"But she can marry Samuel and have a proper life. He'll raise the bastard as his own, you know he will."

"Jessica, let her go. You know she's unhappy here," one of the other women said. "She'll just hate you if you make her stay."

"I don't think you could make her stay if they've come for her," another man pointed out.

Batzi was quietly relaying most of what was being said to Piatseena and he bristled at the reference to his wife and child being taken by another man. Batzi laid a gentle hand on his arm and he quieted.

"Go get the rifles and a horse and we'll leave as soon as you return," she said softly. "Come back alone."

He nodded and pulled her against him again, kissing her firmly before turning and whistling for his horse. He swung up onto it easily and nodded at Batzi before riding off towards the hill. She turned back to them, straightening up and walking towards the chairs on the porch and sitting down to wait.

Piatseena rode his horse hard and fast back to the camp, leaping off when he got there and barking orders for a horse and a rifle. Muea immediately volunteered his own and Piatseena nodded, taking them and turning back towards the ranch. He was anxious to get Batzi back to camp that night so they could get home as soon as possible. Winter camp wasn't the same without her.

When he got back to the ranch, she was sitting on the porch and waiting. The others were inside watching out the windows when he rode up. He dismounted and slipped the lead of Muea's horse over the railing on the porch and propped the rifle beside it. He rested his hand on the horse's nose for a moment before reaching for Batzi. She smiled and stepped forward, letting him gently lift her onto his own horse before climbing on behind her. They nodded at the people watching them through the windows before he turned the horse and directed it back towards the camp. All was right in his world now. His wife was coming home and there would soon be another child and perhaps more after that. She was still relatively young and strong.

The years they had together were full of fighting and war with other bands and the settlers, but love and happiness with each other. Warriors died young in their band, as they should, but Piatseena was an exception to that. He lived a long life with Batzi at his side, holding grandchildren and great-grandchildren on his lap.

The following generations remembered the love between the Comanche chief and his white bride, a love so strong that he never took another wife, even though several of the younger maidens of the band expressed their interest. He simply directed them towards his sons and the other young warriors. All he needed was Batzi.

Tuaahtaki: Cricket. I thought it was cute.


	5. Chapter 5: Explanations

This story is based loosely on true events. I grew up in an area of Texas where the Comanches once roamed and lived and a story of a girl taken captive and integrated into the band is one I heard in about Fourth Grade. I was fascinated by her story and read the book based on her life multiple times in middle school.

Her English name was Cynthia Ann Parker and her Indian name was Nadua, which means "Found Person." She was captured when she was about 9 and then recaptured by whites when she was around 34 in 1860. In the intervening years, she'd married the chief of the tribe and given him three children, one who was the last "great" Comanche chief, Quanah Parker. She and her two year old daughter, Topsanna, were returned to her white family and lived with them the rest of their lives. She was never reunited with her husband, Pete Noconca. Topsanna died three years later of pneumonia and out of grief for her lost family, Nadua stopped eating and died seven years after her daughter. The common consensus was that she died of a broken heart and her son, Quanah, stated that his father died of a broken heart as well.

It wasn't unusual for a man to take many wives but Pete Nocona only ever had Nadua. The Comanche people weren't big on passing down much in the way of history, but that is something that Quanah was proud of, that his father loved his mother that much, so we have that record. Quanah and Nadua are buried at Fort Sill, Oklahoma.

The rest of it, the "Indian stuff," I did some research on. I hit Wikipedia and a few other sites on the internet and found information about the courtship rituals which was typically a man having someone take a gift to the girl's father in his place. I found it interesting that as fierce as the Comanches were, when it came to girls, the boys were really bashful (Seriously, check it out on Wikipedia.) I got the information about birth and what their tipis (and even the spelling) from Wikipedia.

I didn't want to write more or go into a lot of detail about the tasks that they would have performed because I would rather not do it than do it poorly. As it is, I'm hesitant about the stuff I have written. I made assumptions that they married young since it was a point of pride for a Comanche warrior to die young so I had my characters married at 14 and 16. As soon as a girl knew how to properly care for a family, she was deemed a woman. Since they started training at around 12, with basic training starting much earlier, I believe she could be there by 14. A boy was considered a man when he returned from a vision quest.

All told, I find Native Americans fascinating. There's a museum in my home town that has some pretty cool displays about them and I've been a couple of times. They never seem to tell as much about the social aspects, though, and that's what I really want to know. So, I hope you all enjoyed my little story and maybe it'll inspire you to read up on some stuff. At the very least, I recommend the Wiki articles on Comanches and Cynthia Ann Parker and the novel _Where the Broken Heart Still Beats_ about her "rescue."

In my head, Bella was taken at 9, married at 14, mother at 15 and again at 16, and recaptured around 25. I put Piatseena/Jake at two years older, for those of you who asked.


End file.
